


Small but Mighty

by PandyMilkovich



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Gen, Implied Death (out of frame), Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-05-12 13:23:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5667595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PandyMilkovich/pseuds/PandyMilkovich
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Mandy was five years old when she discovered she was different. Too young to place what was happening to her and filled with ludicrous fantasies, she kept her secret in.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Small but Mighty

Mandy was five years old when she discovered she was different. Too young to place what was happening to her and filled with ludicrous fantasies, she kept her secret in.

It began in the backyard in the dead of summer, not so much as a light breeze to cool her. She sat, drenched in sweat, playing with a stray cat she had grown fond of, calling her Louise.

“Hot, huh?” she said to Louise, wiping the hair away that stuck to her forehead.

The black cat slunk up against her, nuzzling its head into her side. It closed its yellow eyes, purring loudly in agreement. Mandy fanned herself off and was nearly blown away by the gust of wind that released from her fingertips.

She went wide-eyed at a phantom of the effect still lingering in her hand. A surge of energy pulsed from her heart, raced down her arm, and left her fingers.

“Holy shit,” she gasped, whipping her head around and making sure she was alone. She was.

Uncertain if it was just a coincidence, she tried again, sweeping her hand out in front of her. As she did, thousands of dandelion florets swirled through the air, fogging the sky. Bushes in the distance rustled and Mandy was left awestruck at her powers. She laughed in disbelief, feeling about ten feet tall. She glanced at Louise, now sitting in front of her, looking at her with intrigue.

“We don't say a word to anyone,” she told Louise sternly.

Mandy got up, running to the house, smiling wide and relishing in the new found thrill. Skipping gleefully, she headed through the kitchen to her bedroom, hoping her small library of fairytales and Grimm folklore would unfold more discoveries.

 

◇◇◇

 

Mickey was eight when he came home, knee scraped and bleeding to near unrecognition.

Mandy sat on the couch studying her craft. The material was intriguing, a little confusing, but she was grasping every piece she understood. It had been a hassle at times, most of the spells were in Latin, an extinct language she didn't understand. She grasped the purpose of them, though, and began to memorize the chants. Even if it did sound like gibberish to her ears, she learned about intuition, honing in on those feelings in her gut and following them. Witchcraft was more about self awareness and confidence then the tricky language. She yanked the spells from her soul, beckoning with her words, and casted them with her energy.

When Mickey’s dramatics became too loud to ignore, she clapped the book shut in her hands and shoved Louise off her lap.

He winced, limping sloppily to the kitchen, muttering curses under his breath. “Where's mom?”

“Not home, what happened?” Mandy asked.

“What does it look like?” Mickey hissed. “I fell off my bike.”

Mandy debated her next move. She was, what she thought, a practiced Witch now. After two years of hexes, spells, charms and a few attempts at conjuring, she felt confident in her abilities.

Mickey had yet to discover her powers. She kept them wrapped up tightly, buried in her soul for her and her only. But now, looking at Mickey in distress, she was drawn to help him.

“Get in the bathroom, I'll take care of it,” she told him, underlying trepidation spilling from her mouth.

Mickey wobbled over, yelling for Mandy to not make it worse, and grabbed a towel to clean up the blood on his way.

She took a deep breath, a flutter of nerves hitting her gut. She had never practiced on other people, or any living thing for that matter, and was suddenly second guessing her decision to start with her brother.

“Mandy!” Mickey hollered from the bathroom.

“I'm coming,” she answered impatiently, sneaking into her room first to grab a book she had permanently borrowed from the shop across town.

She fanned it open, finding one of the many pages she had marked. Carefully memorizing the spell, she shut the book and headed to the bathroom.

Mickey sat on the edge on the tub, inspecting his injuries. Road rash on his thigh and a large gash where the chain cut his skin. He looked up at her expectantly and she felt her hands react to her nerves. They flickered and she imagined it was how a bulb felt when its light started to strobe before it went out. _Intuition_ , she reminded herself, calming her hands and summoning her powers.

“Don't you need band aids? Peroxide or some shit?” Mickey questioned her.

“No.”

“Where's mom?” he repeated, face covered with skepticism, not confident in Mandy’s ability.

“I can do it,” she glared, feeling protective of her curse.

“Fine.” Mickey rolled his eyes.

Mandy looked at his knee, already swelling and turning purple around the area. She took a deep breath, settling her anxieties and channeling her energy. Hovering her hands over Mickey's knee, she tried not to touch it as she closed her eyes and began to mutter a string of words she had studied a dozen times.

“Mandy?” Mickey interrupted, causing her energy wave weaken.

“Shh!” She snapped then continued to recite the Latin, over and over again.

“Mandy, what the fuck?”

Her fingertips felt the familiar pulse thumping lively as the healing spell began to work. Sending an electricity through her body, she felt it spark down her arm. She couldn't open her eyes, though, afraid of breaking her concentration. She chanted, the words getting louder and louder as the phrase left her mouth.

“Mandy, what the fuck is happening?” Mickey let out in awe, his tone noticeably softened.

Ignoring him, she kept her eyes closed and felt a pocket of energy envelope the room, locking them into the spell. After a few more minutes, the vitality began to taper away, and she knew it was almost complete.

Mickey was shocked silent, but Mandy could hear his shallow breaths in the bubble she had casted them in. After the effects had completely evaporated, morphing the space back into its ordinary state, she opened her eyes quickly to see if the spell had worked.

Mickey’s mouth was agape, astonished and probably scared. “What just happened?”

Mandy couldn’t stop the victory that painted across her face, grinning widely at her success. Mickey’s knee looked good as new. “It worked,” she whispered.

“Mandy?” Mickey tried to snap her from the moment, but she kept her eyes fixed on his knee, leaning in for a better look. His voice sounded like a distant echo and she questioned if it was even real at all.

She braved a touch, almost sure she was dreaming, then pinched Mickey’s skin causing him to flick her hand in defense. That did it, she was positive now; this wasn’t a hallucination or a fantasy, she had actually performed magic on her brother and it worked.

“Mandy!” he repeated and she blinked her eyes up at him. He was breathing sharply, his eyes confused and frightened, but Mandy couldn’t wipe the smile from her face. “What just happened?”

With confidence and pride pumping through her, coupled with the satisfaction of her being extraordinary and large, she answered him without doubt or hesitation and smirked proudly. “I’m a Witch.”

 

◇◇◇

 

Mandy was ten when she first used her powers to ward off her father. In the dead of night, Mickey, nearly twelve, crept into her room to check on her. The thundering yells from Terry were made louder when he opened the door. Mandy knew Mickey was there for himself, too. He could mask it as being a protective brother, but they both knew there was strength in numbers-especially when one of those numbers had Witchcraft on their side.

“He’s really loud tonight,” Mandy commented quietly, pulling Louise in close. No amount of power or magic could take away the fear her father instilled in her. She wasn’t that mighty, still just premature in the grand scheme of things.

“You alright?” Mickey asked, going straight to the closet for a baseball bat.

Mickey had known, told Mandy he could tell by the way their father looked at her, that he was a monster. Though not supernatural, Mandy was sure of that, she still casted her father as the role of the villain in one of the many stories she read; linking him into the reality she lived.

Sometimes it was nice to see it like that, to string everyone on the same thread as her, making her feel less estranged by her curse. Most of the time, though, when she was feeling powerful and tall, she liked being different amongst the normal. It allotted her bravery and strength.

“Yeah.” She nodded, knees held tight against her chest. “You?”

Mickey looked at her with offense; how dare she ask her brother who exhibited such stoicness if he was afraid. “I’m fine, just checkin’ on ya,” he affirmed, pulling the bat out.

They both flinched at a surprise crash that came from the kitchen. It sounded like shattered glass, and the fear seemed to spark her energy. She felt a rush through her body, senses alerting and on the defense; she shivered, letting out a small gasp.

“What just happened?” Mickey asked, registering Mandy’s sudden stillness.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I just felt something.”

“Can ya elaborate? Not all of us have the fortune of bein’ a fuckin’ lab rat Witch.”

Mandy glared. Mickey had always coupled the proclamation of what she was with a snide remark. She thought it was jealousy, but couldn’t be sure. He always acted unimpressed with her, but couldn’t deny the intrigue when she would practice spells; making himself coincidentally available when she let him in on a new ritual she wanted to try.

“I had a surge, that’s never happened before...not when I’m not practicing at least,” Mandy explained, feeling the powers rumble in her chest as the noises on the other side of the door grew louder.

She fumbled at the newness of it all. Up until this point energy had to be channeled, it didn’t just arrive on it’s own. She heard heavy footsteps outside the door, closing in on her. Her pulse quickened yet her hands were oddly steady, even though the rest of her senses were racing. Mickey gripped the bat tighter, broadening his shoulders and looking back to Mandy in fear.

_“Mandy!”_ Terry bellowed from outside the room.

With her intuition in an uproar, Mandy knew what would happen if he got through the door. She rose from her spot, her steps getting heavier as she positioned herself in front of Mickey and held her hands up.

The spell left her unprovoked, no need for a chant or charm. The force was visible when it left her hands, casing the door with a bright light, using ward and wane when Terry tried to open it. He punched the door vigorously, screaming strings of curses and threats.

_“Open the goddamn door!”_

Mandy watched the knob turn as Mickey grabbed her shoulders, holding himself in place as the spell grew stronger around them. The room picked up with a strong wind, displacing her hair, and causing her eyes to water. She heard Terry push against the door, grunting in aggravation and wondered what would give out first, Terry’s insistence or her powers.

“Terry,” a slurred voice called out. Mandy thought it was her uncle but couldn’t be sure. Terry muttered something, then stepped away from the door, leaving her and Mickey alone.

Mandy nearly collapsed when the spell broke, staggering back to her bed as a headache set in. She felt dizzy, eyes blurry and hands shaking. She took a deep breath, the effects of the spell wearing away in her veins.

Mickey sat stunned and Mandy showed a small smile to assure him she was okay. She felt a complicated mix of strength and weakness filter through her; the strength in her craft, but a weakness in her body.

After a moment, Mickey made his way over, bat still in hand and looking at Mandy wearily. “That was pretty fuckin’ cool.” He smiled, and Mandy knew he was trying to lighten the tension that had built in the room.

“I don’t even know how I did that,” she admitted, astonished.

“Well, ya did, so who gives a fuck,” Mickey celebrated with a shrug.

Mandy smiled before her eyes fell to her lap and a pregnant pause dwelled between them. She thought about what would’ve happened if she didn’t have powers, didn’t have Mickey. No magic or baseball bat to protect her. The vision made her blood run cold, fright settling in the pit of her stomach. She looked at Mickey, admiration seeping through her stare as she tried to seem unphased.

“You can stay in here tonight, if you want,” she said timidly, before toughening her tone. “But your ass is sleepin’ on the floor!”

“Fine,” Mickey agreed, feigning his dismay. “Hex the door or some shit, though...in case I don’t wake up in time.”

Mandy smirked, knowing Mickey felt the same anxiety and fear as her; brother and sister linked together with blood and a shared terror. She lifted her hand up, recalling the charm for safety and time. She chanted out the spell, sealing it with a time lock to break at dawn, then rolled over to sleep.

“A pillow would be nice, ass face.” Without hesitation, Mandy grabbed a pillow and pegged it at him. “Bitch,” Mickey muttered before falling asleep.

 

◇◇◇

 

Mandy was thirteen. She remembered the day it happened, and two days after it happened, but when _it_ actually happened, she didn't remember that. That frame of time was shrouded under a veil, restricting her memory from seeing it. The day, though, that day was great.

“I need more information,” she said to Mickey as he paraded down their front steps beside her. She had her heart set on going to a secret shop rumored to be for people like her-the cursed. “The shit in the books I have are just that, shit! Half the spells don’t work-”

“Or you’re just bad at it.”

Mandy rolled her eyes, she knew herself and her practice well enough by now. “That’s not it, douche bag. These things get passed down, mulled over, rewritten thousands of times. We need to find something legit.”

The books she had were alright, filled with hits and misses. Some of the things were tried and true practices sworn by the Witches on the internet, but she was desperate to get her hands on an authentic spell book. Her hands tingled at the thought.

“We? Bitch, you wish. Have fun.” Mickey pinched a cigarette between his lips, dismissing her.

“You're not coming?” Mandy whined. She had never willingly stepped into the realm where others like her frequented. Anxiously, she hoped today was the day.

“No, I'm not goin’ to the freak shop with you!”

Something caught Mandy’s eyes when Mickey turned his head toward her. “Where's that from?” she asked about the cut on his cheek bone.

“What do you think?”

Mandy knew it was their father, her heart breaking at the realization. Mickey and Mandy, being the youngest and smallest, were always used as a tool for Terry to insert his authority; examples.

“Want me to-”

“No, leave it,” he bit out before sighing. “If it miraculously goes away, he'll notice.” Mandy knew _and replace it,_ was left unsaid.

“Okay,” she agreed, hiding her frustrations.

She was annoyed with herself that with all the magic she harbored, she still couldn't stop Terry. It made her feel small and disposable. She shouldn't fear him, shouldn't have to see the evidence of a monster etched on Mickey's face. She knew he was right, though, one day she'd reveal her powers when they were needed most. The mundane pistol whipping and child beating wasn't enough to expose herself, knowing he could be worse-much worse. She didn’t know what he’d do to her if he found out; kill her, banish her, reject her. She couldn’t risk not being there when he turned into his most evil form, at least if he disposed of her then it’d be worth it

They walked side by side in silence, the air thick with sorrow at the thought of their home life before Mickey turned the other way.

“Later assface,” he burped, and Mandy knew where he was going.

“Douche,” she muttered.

She refocused on her mission, suddenly nervous at going at it alone. She wondered if she’d have to admit what she was, or if they'd just _know_. She had read something before about a Keeper, not ever being a proven supernatural kind, she questioned the actuality of them. They didn’t possess the powers to perform Witchcraft, but had a sharp intuition to identify someone who was cursed; being able to sort their kind: Witch, Wolf, Vampire, Shapeshifters, and the list went on.

She approached the rundown shop, a bell going off as she entered. An old woman with flowing silver hair sat behind a counter and peered over her book to get a look at her. Mandy smiled at her falsely, not feeling completely comfortable in her surroundings. She walked around the small shop, wondering when or how to announce what she was, or if to bother at all. She ran her finger along a shelf, collecting dust and admiring the antiques.

“Can I help you?” the woman asked.

Mandy took a deep breath and prepared her lie. “Uh, yeah actually. I have a school project on myths. Need stuff on...Salem.” Mandy bit her lip, darting her eyes around the room.

“Are _you?_ ” The woman narrowed her eyes, scanning Mandy thoroughly.

Mandy felt her gut twist. Her intuition was strong and her mind was hopeful. “ _Yes_ ,” she replied slowly.

The woman didn't say much after that. Leading Mandy to a small, pathetic, shelf, looking a lot like the one she had at home, she let her pick what she wanted from it. Mandy, practically drooling over the small step she made in progress, grabbed them all and stuffed them in her bag.

“How much?” she asked the woman, who smiled warmly at her.

“Just light those pesky candles for me, I can't seem to reach the wick.” Mandy looked over, there were three candles in tall cylinder glasses, nearly burned to the bottom. Mandy flicked her wrist and released the spell.

“Thanks.” Mandy nodded, threw her bag over her shoulder and headed for the door.

Once outside, she felt accomplished and courageous for finally entering into a small nook from her realm; of course she didn't actually have a clue if the woman was from the cursed lineage, but she assumed. It was a small victory knowing she could do it alone, strengthening her independence. She adjusted the bag on her shoulder, holding tightly to the strap and securing her most prized possessions with a death grip. In search of seclusion and a familiar face, she headed to the abandoned building.

On the short walk she was feeling alert and alive, a kinetic energy spouting in her body from the glee she felt as she walked. She idly let spells fall from her fingers, lighting broken store signs, turning off car sirens, and slowing a speeding car that whipped around the corner. A smile was permanently printed on her face as she swerved through alleys and streets until she closed in on her target.

She jogged towards the entrance and made her way up the stairs to the roof, hearing Mickey crack open a beer can as she swung open the door.

“Fuck you doin' here?”

“Needed to practice,” she answered, secretly just wanting the company.

Mickey didn't retort or dismiss her, instead just pulled his knife from his pocket and whipped it at the makeshift target in the distance. Mandy unloaded her haul from the store, shuffling through the books. Some she knew, others she didn't. She picked the most worn one, showing its age and looking promising. Strings sagged from the binding and the pages were yellowed and antiqued. She felt a pull in her chest like it was trying to draw her in, and she opened it quickly.

“What are ya gonna do first?” Mickey asked absently.

“Don't know.” She smirked at how Mickey never could deny his interest.

The first half was mostly history, explaining the origins of the craft, then it subdivided the types of Witches that roamed the earth. She didn't know there were different kinds, the information interesting but not completely unexpected. She figured just like people, there were different types of Witches. She skimmed, trying to find what category she fell under, frowning when she fell under _The Mistaken Witch._ She met all the requirements. Powers not from an heir or the cursed, just appearing unexpectedly. Of course, this kind was the most ridiculed of the bunch, just like how she was viewed in the human world. Poor girl from the slums who happened to be a bit of a seductress; the _Mistaken_ carried the brunt of scrutiny.

She pouted, flipping away from the pages that ridiculed her until she came across some defensive spells. She hadn't had a use for them yet, but always wanted to try. Her collection at home was limited on the topic, so she dove into the plentiful sea. Her eyes danced across the pages with excitement, trying to decide where to start. One caught her attention-a barrier spell. She heard Mickey pull the knife from the target again and got an idea.

Without telling him, she prepared the spell, letting it seep down her arm and into her hand. When he threw the knife again, she chanted out the spell quietly, casting a shield around the target. The invisible bubble stopped the knife, breaking its trajectory and knocking it pitifully to the ground.

Mandy huffed in shock. That was the first time a spell had worked unpracticed. Feeling about as tall as the building she stood on, she looked at Mickey devilishly.

“Fuck you, that would have been a bullseye!”

“No, it wouldn't've.” She rolled her eyes and stood up.

Mickey picked the knife up begrudgingly while Mandy positioned herself in front of the target.

“What’re you doin'?”

“Throw it,” she instructed, conjuring the spell in her insides.

“What? No!”

“Mick, just do it! If it hits me, I'll heal myself.”

Mickey looked hesitant, staring her down, looking for assurance. She gestured for him to throw it, feeling impulsive and untouchable.

“Alright,” he breathed out reluctantly, nerves pouring from his eyes. “One...two…” Mandy closed her eyes, casting the spell. “Three,” he grunted, sending the knife flying.

She felt the strong pulse in her stomach explode as she recited the spell, opening her eyes to watch it take effect. She was surrounded by a cloudy ball that thumped steadily, holding the power in and protecting her. She looked at the knife while trying to keep her concentration on the spell. It was flying towards her, but looked like it was going in slow motion. Her ears pulsed with adrenaline, her heart nearly breaking her ribs. It bounced off the barrier, the noise was oddly loud in the bubble, reverberating and echoing its treble. She watched it fall to the ground, about three feet in front of her, in disbelief.

“Holy shit.” She let the spell break, looking at Mickey in awe. Her heart drummed manically, pumping pride and bewilderment through her body. Blown away by the sharpness and precision of her craft, she couldn't help but let a boastful smile spread across her face.

“You wanna try?” she asked Mickey excitedly.

Mickey blinked at her, shocked, before ultimately giving in. “Yeah, okay.”

They spent five hours up on the roof, reckless and free. Mandy did every spell in the protection chapter of the book. She couldn't remember a time she had this much fun with her powers. Coming across this new bounty of magic had her on a high, exercising her abilities and feeling invincible.

With an arsenal of new spells to keep her safe, she felt herself unwind, falling into the role of a carefree child. She had always been on the defense at home, but the offense was proving to be nice, too. Soon she would be as tall as a skyscraper, valiant and sturdy, not a human in the world could break her. She found herself getting impatient, waiting for the day she could use magic against her father, once and for all.

When she and Mickey finally marched up the stairs to their house, Mandy couldn't wipe the happiness from her face. She pushed the door open, smelling the meal that wafted through the air and realizing she worked up an appetite while she was on the roof.

“There’s my babies,” Tracy, Mandy’s mother, gushed.

Mandy could tell she was strung out, always was. Her efforts to cast a spell breaking addiction was a tricky one, with healing charms only fixing physical ailments. She walked over and kissed her mom’s cheek.

Tracy wrapped her arm around Mandy, surprising her with a tight embrace. Mandy had always been fond of her mother, being the only girls in the house, a kinship had formed. Mandy stayed there for an extended moment, relishing in the affection from the one parent who supplied it. Tracy's arms were warm and caring, a haven of safety for Mandy to burrow in.

“So beautiful,” Tracy slurred, pulling away from Mandy and cradling her face. She swayed back and forth involuntarily, her eyes wide and her pupils blown.

Mandy smiled, but the happiness didn't spread behind her eyes when the marks on her mother’s arm caught Mandy’s attention. She covered them with her hand, steadying Tracy in the process, and released a spell, trying to control the intensity.

Mandy held back the tear that tried to fall down her cheek, broken over the woman who stood in front of her. She knew without her powers she’d turn out the same way, history bound and expected to repeat itself. Mandy felt a blanket of sadness drape over her wishing her mother could be cured and they could break the cycle they've been living in for decades. Screwing her eyes shut, warding off the tears, Mandy healed the marks but hoped she could do more.

Tracy stilled then shivered, an effect from the spell Mandy knew she wouldn't question. “Cold in here,” Tracy commented, releasing Mandy and grabbing a cigarette.

“When's dinner?” Mickey called out from his room.

“When it's done,” Tracy fired back, only to be met with the slamming of a door. “So crabby,” she laughed. “Like his father.”

“No he's not.” The reply tumbled from Mandy’s mouth before she knew how to stop it.

Tracy stopped, eyes drooping and wobbly on her feet. “You're right. No one’s like that man,” she agreed quietly. Then her expression changed quickly, like a tide, she went from placid to turbulent. “Not my kids. My kids are like me. Strong and brave. _My_ babies,” she began to cry, her words pushing together with force. “ _My_ babies!” She looked at Mandy, stunned with sadness, and surveyed her expression. “You're gonna be a strong girl, right? Promise me that. No matter what, you're my girl, you're strong!” she pleaded earnestly.

Mandy felt a shift in her energy. It felt like lead in her stomach, plummeting to the bottom of her gut. Suddenly it began to burn; turmoil and hopelessness colliding and making Mandy lightheaded.

“Yeah, mom. I promise,” she agreed with watery eyes. “Why don't you lay down, I'll finish dinner.”

“Okay baby,” Tracy nodded. Something in Mandy felt off kilter, her intuition flaring wildly. An unease settled over her and she grew frustrated when she couldn't place why.

Mandy helped her mother to her room, panged with heartache at her condition. Tracy was frail, nearly the same weight as Mandy. Mandy couldn't help but compare the two: the untouchable little girl who possessed the powers and ability of a Witch, and the feeble, broken, mother who could barely muster the strength to stand.

She had always casted Tracy as a willow tree in her fantasy, an admittedly odd choice, but fitting. She was viewed as beautiful and free, but Mandy knew different, for the willow weeps. It sways easily, hanging low in sorrow with a strong trunk, but all the world could see was the delicate, wilted branches. It was controlled by the outside force of the wind, never getting to pick which way it wanted to blow.

Mandy pressed down the pain as she got her into bed. Tracy’s eyes were glassy and her misery was hard to ignore.

“Thank you, baby. My sweet girl,” she said, barely awake with heavy eyelids.

That was it. That was where Mandy’s memory tunneled out. She couldn't break past that moment in time. The next recollection she had was Mickey shoving her awake. Her powers had went haywire, uncontrollably leaving her body. She remembered the force of which they left her, the energy piling up, swirling around then bursting open. When the episode was over, she passed out on the ground and stayed there, slipping in and out of reality and her fantasy world.

She had a dream, one so vivid she could have sworn it was a premonition. She was strong, the most powerful Witch in the world. No one could hurt her. They couldn't reject her or use her. She was looked up to, tall as a statute; graceful and feared. She had made it to be the woman her mother wanted her to be, one Tracy never was and could never be.

She blinked her eyes open, seeing her brother’s matching pair. The tears started to sting in her eyes when she watched Mickey's evident relief paint across his face.

“Fuckin’ finally,” he sighed.

“What happened?”

“You put up a barrier or whatever around yourself. I couldn't get through it. It finally broke.”

Mandy furrowed her brows, “I didn't know I did that,” she said distantly.

“Well ya fuckin’ did,” Mickey reaffirmed.

“How long?” she asked, noticing the daylight outside.

“Almost two days.” Mandy went wide-eyed. Two days unaccounted for of her life. Two days her mother was gone. Two days and no one seemed to notice but Mickey.

“Did I miss…” She trailed off, not brave enough to say the words out loud.

“Yeah.” Mickey nodded somberly. “He got her cremated today, didn't want to _make a big deal_ about it.” Mickey recounted their fathers words.

_A big deal_ , Mandy thought. It was the biggest deal she had ever faced in a lifetime. Devastated beyond belief, going from the happiest day to the saddest in the blink of an eye. Her mother was gone, she had to resume where Tracy left off, forever missing the only person in their house that she felt any kind of comfort with.

Mandy wiped her eyes, the room and details finally coming into focus. She noticed Mickey's face was bruised and he had a welt on his arm; Terry. In a fit of rage and grief he must have lashed out. Mandy felt a rush of guilt wash through her. She should have fought her curse, controlled herself. She could’ve been protecting her brothers instead of sitting in her own haven of protection while they took the brunt of Terry's anguish.

“I'm sorry.”

“Don't worry about it. Just get up, we gotta tread lightly now, he fuckin’ lost it,” Mickey told her.

“Yeah okay.” She picked herself up, straightening her shirt and fixing her face with false bravery before making her way out to the kitchen. She was suddenly promoted to caretaker. She had brothers to feed, a father to tend to, a house to clean and dishes to do. It felt like she was falling into the cycle but she knew. She knew with her curse she would _never_ suffer the fate of her mother.

 

◇◇◇

 

Mandy was fourteen when she fell in lust with Ian Gallagher. She found him charming and knightly. Admiring his kindness and moxy from where she sat in class, doe eyed and full of fantasies-not the kind she read in her books.

Braving the Kash and Grab to see him was easy. She knew what she was, her confidence undeniable, yet the real reason kept private. He didn’t need to know what she was, didn’t need to know where that pride bloomed from; a plentiful garden in the depths of her soul. Mickey and her had agreed, only they could know her secret.

She adjusted her skirt before swinging the door open to see Ian on a ladder, standing tall like a prince in a tower. She walked over and put on the charm, leaning in and pinching his ass playfully.

“Hey that’s-”

“Hey, Ian,” she gushed, when he revealed his smirk.

“Oh, hey Mandy, wh-what’s going on?” he stammered and Mandy found it adorable.

“I just wanted to thank you for comin’ to my rescue in history class today.” As the words left her mouth, her stomach fluttered, sending her powers into a tizzy.

She held the ladder, trying to ignore her sometimes pesky curse, swiveling on her feet and trying to get them to settle.

It was a new, odd feeling. She had only had a power surge in situations of panic or distress. The energy was familiar, though, in the way that she knew it was from a reaction to her senses. But this time it felt almost whimsical in her veins, contrasting the thundering power of the other times. She figured it was because this was the first time her emotions reacted positively around another human. Her friends left her bored, and her home left her tormented, the middle ground was proving to be nice.

“It was no problem, Mr. Bancroft’s a prick.”

“Well, I think you might just be my knight in shining armour.” She didn't mean to say it out loud, but it happened. She had casted him in her life, the fantasy she lived in, unbeknownst to anyone that it was all real for her.

Mandy giggled when the laugh fell from Ian’s mouth as he descended from the ladder, blushing endearingly. “Right,” he agreed, walking away.

The frenzy picked up in Mandy’s gut. She turned on her heals quickly and mosied down the aisle.

“You’re funny, Ian Gallagher,” she giggled.

“Uh, okay.” He looked confused.

Mandy darted over, unnecessarily worried that he was picking up on something, and determined to act casual and get the guy, she stood at his side. “Well, what time do you get out of work?”

“Umm, uh,” he darted his eyes across the store, “I think it’s inventory night, so not till really late.”

Mandy felt a small squash in her heart, “Oh...well, I guess I’ll see you around school tomorrow then?” she asked hopefully, reminding herself who she was and finding that confidence again.

Ian blushed. “Um, yeah, right. See ya tomorrow, Mandy.” Mandy took that as a victory and smiled.

With her powers finally settled in her body, and a her self-assurance found, she leaned into Ian, smacking her lips to his cheek then headed out the door.

She smiled proudly at herself, her fantasy world overtaking her mind. The lines blurred between what was real and what was lore, but she didn't care. Living in the slums, her powers made her feel above it all. She was different, _special_ , and nothing could change that.

She walked the streets of the noisy city, giddy at her success with Ian, when she quickly formed an idea. She unintentionally casted herself as a princess in her tale, knowing the title was off but taking liberties in her mind. She turned back quickly, heading to the alleyway behind the Kash and Grab, deciding her mission as a newly appointed princess was to snag the knight.

To pass the time, she worked on hexes. Fucking with the feral cat in the alley, she turned his fur pink. She laughed to herself when the cat looked disgruntled after the spell took effect. She changed him back quickly, after she enjoyed the brief moment of ridiculousness. Then she moved onto deflection spells, the hardest to grasp, considering she never had an opponent Witch attacking her. Instead, she performed bounce back spells; sending out a hex to boomerang back at herself, then firing another counterspell to diffuse it. It only went rogue once before when she cursed herself with a silencing spell.

Mickey had enjoyed the mishap, she was cursed silent for two hours while she tried to channel a spell without the ability to chant. It was good practice, though, forcing her to perfect her craft, so it wasn’t all bad. She even rewarded herself by hexing Mickey with a censor hex; he couldn’t curse for an entire day, leaving him in a constant state of agitation for a solid twenty-four hours.

Finally, Ian came out the backdoor. “Boo,” Mandy startled him.

“Mandy?”

“Ya miss me?” She was on a high. Two hours of slinging spells could do that.

“Yes,” he answered, flaring Mandy’s stomach again. “What are you doing here?”

“Waiting to walk you home, silly.” She linked her arm in his.

“Oh.”

They walked the familiar streets and Mandy was almost dazed. Her surges were present but under control. Drunk with power and attraction, she felt something pool in her stomach; desire.

When they got to Ian’s, Mandy’s head spun with thoughts of where the night could go. The only obstacle in her way was Carl, but she ignored him for the most part. Ian was being a perfect gentlemen, but Mandy had other plans. She fiddled with the tab on her beer, then bounced over toward Ian, closing the gap between them. He jolted up, firing off the couch urgently, and she deflated.

“Do you want another beer?”

“Okay,” she replied wearily. “But don’t be too long.”

Finally unable to ignore Carl, and with her powers swirling inside her, she punched the kid’s arm, shooing him away. If she wasn’t so guarded about her secret, she would have hexed him. Luckily, Carl obliged and no Witchcraft was necessary.

She heard the brothers muttered incoherencies at one another, then Ian sat beside her. The winding bobbin of emotions threaded thickly inside her. She bit her lip, squirming on the couch before she pounced. She leapt toward Ian’s lips, her name leaving his mouth frantically. She felt his hands on her, muttering and stuttering adorably but he pushed her away.

“Mandy, Mandy, Mandy,” he rushed out.

Seeing what he was getting at, Mandy dug a hand in her bra to reveal a condom because even she knew no amount of magic could stop a pregnancy. “It’s okay, I got one!” She smiled seductively.

“No, no,” Ian protested, pushing Mandy off of him, blushing and confused. Mandy mirrored his reaction, suddenly feeling dumb, and climbed off of him.

“Do you wanna go in your room?” she asked, thinking he may have wanted privacy.

“No,” Ian replied apologetically. “It’s just...you’re not really my type.” He sucked in a breath, and physically braced himself.

Mandy was shattered as she felt her eyes sting with rejection. Her powers kaleidoscoped in her and her control over them was slipping away. She willed herself not to chant out a spell and just sat there feeling like discarded trash.

This kind of surge was different, yet again. Her broken heart and fragile state sent her spiralling, hypersensitive to the sensation as she ran out of the house crying. She distantly heard Ian call out for her, but she kept running, trying to break free from the road and release her energy. When she got under the El line, she let go of the magic that built inside her. It spilled out like water falling from her fingertips in an angry wave.

Trash cans fell, leaves cycloned around her, papers and garbage flew through air. All unnoticed as she screwed her eyes shut and cried. Like a lightening bolt striking through her, the spells released in a sporadic rhythm; unexpected and with force, lighting up around her.

It was only a few minutes, but soon she was drained, shriveled up in a desert of rejection. She slid down a column, face wet with tears as she tucked her legs to her chest. She was foolish, placing herself in this dream world. Trying to blend who she is with what she is; the mortal and the Witch, losing balance when times got hard.

When her tears subsided, she picked herself up and continued the walk home. Her loneliness and heartbreak were slowly replaced with anger as she now sought out revenge. She couldn’t use her powers, the risk was too high. She didn’t know what would happen if people found out-if her father found out. It was her first line of defense, and she thought the worst about what would happen if he knew she had a weapon against him. Revealing her curse to the Gallagher’s was risky and she needed to be smart. She knew she’d have to call on her trusted steed, the role she casted Mickey in, much to his protests. She walked the next block in silence, mustering up the bravery to face her brother. She closed the door quietly behind her. Mickey was playing Nintendo when he noticed her, surely looking fragile and weak.

“Hey,” he greeted her with hesitation.

“I need you to beat up Ian Gallagher,” she cut right to the chase, not sure how long she could feign the strength before she crumbled.

“What, why?”

Mandy felt the lie seep into her mind, knowing it was wrong and unfair, but saw no other way. She knew it would get Mickey off the couch and ready to fight. Her hands trembled and she could almost feel her powers softening. They billowed around the edges like a cloud, not as sharp as they were a few minutes ago.

“He tried to attack me,” she said quietly, regretting the words as they left her lips.

Mickey sat up straight, like there was a rod in his spine, breathing heavily.

“He's a fuckin’ dead man,” he seethed.

Mandy nodded, tired and weak. Her powers punished her, morphing into a ball of fire in her stomach as she stood there. When the magic became too hard to ignore, she receded to her room, ashamed of the level she had stooped to in the face of a broken heart

She dragged her back along the door, shoulders pinched forward in an effort to fold herself from existence, and cried.

 

◇◇◇

 

It had been two days before she saw Ian again, pleading on the street for her to call off her brothers. Flustered and riddled with guilt, she blew him off. The street wasn’t a place for a scene, especially with her friends who were ignorant to her condition, unsure if her powers would react unprovoked.

It wasn’t until later, when she was alone that he cornered her. He blurted out his own secret; he was gay. Mandy stilled, letting his secret sink in, her stomach flopped and her energy was active for first time since she had lied to Mickey. Blindsided wasn't quite the word for it, stampeded was more accurate to how she felt.

Remorsefully, she led him to the swings, suddenly realizing his secret needed to be protected for the same reasons as hers; people like Terry would be after the both of them. She questioned the legitimacy of his claim, knowing his wasn’t nearly as outlandish as hers but still wanting to gauge him.

Eventually, in an effort to make amends, she agreed to help. She promised to act as his girlfriend, knowing her heart would ache every time they put on the show. After she agreed, though, she felt an imbalance and was drawn to evening the playing field.

“I have a secret, too, ya know,” she began.

“You a lesbian?” Ian knocked their shoulders together, amusement on his face.

“No,” she laughed, hoping it didn't sound fake.

She stopped short, twiddling the hem of her shirt in thought. She expected her powers to react, to pull her to the right judgment call, but her insides were as calm as a flat sea. She darted her eyes thoughtfully, seeking help from her mind rather than her intuition. Something about Ian screamed trust, and she felt the words crawl to the tip of her tongue about to jump.

“What is it then?”

“You can’t say a word, or I swear I'll send my brothers again,” she warned.

“Swear.”

Mandy thought how to word it, but quickly decided action was better. “Gimme your hand.”

“Okay…” Ian said slowly.

Mandy hovered her hand over his, closing her eyes and feeling her insides ignite; her powers were strong again. She muttered her chant, feeling the heat build between their palms. When she was sure a ball had formed she opened them.

Ian was bewildered, caught between confusion and engrossment. He couldn't tear his eyes from the bright sphere that bobbed between their hands. Mandy watched him, feeling giant with her powers on display. Boastful and proud, she decided to impress. She sent the ball flying in the air and when it got close enough to break the window to her house she turned it to water, watching it splash across the pane.

Ian stared at the house for an extended moment, blinking rapidly in shock as his jaw dropped. “What was that?”

“Energy,” Mandy boasted.

“You're not…” Ian laughed in disbelief. “Mandy, you can't be…”

Mandy nodded, her grin stretching across her face. Ian huffed out a laugh, like he was waiting for the punchline, but Mandy’s confidence beamed brighter.

“So you're, you're…” Ian wheeled his hand, almost scared to say it.

“A Witch,” she confirmed with her insides expanding.

“Holy shit.”

Happy with how she impressed Ian, although not the way she had originally planned, she linked their arms and they continued to the house.

“My dad can't know,” she blurted out.

“I wouldn't tell anyone,” Ian promised sincerely.

“Good.”

“I gotta go, though, Fiona will have my ass if I miss family dinner.”

Slightly disappointed, Mandy nodded. “I can come over later? Homework and stuff,” she added.

“Do you even do homework? Or just snap your fingers and it's done?” he asked with a laugh.

“Sadly, magic can't help the head or the heart. My brain’s gotta do all the work on that front.” She had tried many times to find the spell that made her smarter, hitting a dead end every time.

“That sucks, but yeah, that sounds good. See ya later then?”

“Yeah.” Mandy nodded.

She headed into her house. She couldn't place why her heart still hurt, maybe it was mourning what could have been, but she dismissed it. She knew she had to call off Mickey. She felt off-kilter with her powers, the energy not leaving her with the same vigor it once had. She idly thought of ways to channel her powers, exercise her curse and gain back control. She was retreating to her room to further explore her quandary, when she bumped into Mickey on her way.

“Watch it, asshole.” The cup in his hand spilled over onto his shirt, leaving him sopping wet.

She looked behind her, scanning the room and seeing no sign of other occupants. She swirled her palm, drying the mess and refilling the cup back up.

“Thanks,” he said fondly.

“Yep.” Mandy stilled, thinking now was as good a time as any to settle this.

“Can ya move?” Mickey said impatiently.

“Wait, I gotta talk to you.”

“What now?”

“In my room,” she urged quietly.

Mickey rolled his eyes, reluctantly following her steps. She closed the door behind them and sat down on her bed, thinking.

“Gonna spit it out or not?”

“Okay,” she sighed, dragging her hand down her face. “Ya gotta stop the manhunt on Ian.”

“What?” He arched his brows in confusion. “He fuckin’ attacked you!”

Mandy blushed, hearing the lie out loud again contorted her insides. “He didn't…” she admitted quietly, watching Mickey's reaction.

He scrunched his face in disbelief, breathing sharply through his nose. Mandy filled with heat and her fingertips sparked uncontrollably, then she heard her lamp crash to the floor, startling her. Ever since the lie, her powers have been going haywire. She thought with the unease she felt it was affecting her craft. Desperate to restore balance and reclaim herself, she continued to work though the amends.

“Look, I didn't know what to do! He broke my heart,” she admitted shyly. “I couldn't hex him and you know that! I was pissed, now my powers are slippin’ and I need to fix this!” she didn't realize she was yelling until her rant was over.

“What?” Mickey asked, confused. “What's wrong with your powers?”

Mandy deflated, lips vibrating when she released a heavy exhale. “Ever since I lied to you my powers have been _off_. It’s getting harder and harder to control them.”

“So this is all for you to get your powers back?”

“No, that's not it,” she stammered defensively. “He's my friend, a good one now. I don't want him to get hurt, especially since it's _my_ fault to begin with.”

“Let’s review: I beat the shit outta this asshole’s brother-his brother who makes sure I pass fuckin’ high school and I spent an entire day hunting him down, all because you fuckin’ lied! And for what? What actually happened?”

Mandy felt her face redden, embarrassed to admit the moment she felt so small and disposable, even if she knew why. “He rejected me.”

“That's _it?_ ” Mickey barked. “If I had gone after everyone who rejected you, my fuckin’ arms would get tired.”

Mandy glared, slinging her hand out, sending a book across the room to peg him in the face.

“Fuck! Fine.” he agreed. “And it looks like your powers are fuckin’ fine,” he added, rubbing his head.

“I can still do magic, it just _feels_ different,” she explained, not knowing why.

“Whatever.” Mickey rolled his eyes.

“I know it's hard for you to get. I know you don't understand. Nobody could, but I'm worried.” She sat on her bed, imagining what it would be like without her powers, like she often did; tiny and weak. “They're all I have, Mick. I can't lose them, or I'll lose myself.”

Mickey looked at her sympathetically. Mandy didn't like the look, it made her feel pitiful. She didn't like people to peek into her dismay. She locked herself away in the fantasies so tightly, holding onto them for dear life so she could allow herself this dream of strength and stoicness. The vulnerability of revealing how'd she’d be without them, without magic, made her feel bare.

“Okay. No more fuckin’ with Gallagher,” he receded. “But the Kash and Grab is still free game. That guy’s a pussy, easiest place to steal from.”

“Fine,” Mandy agreed. “Just leave Ian alone.”

“Not gonna be his best fuckin’ friend, but I won't kill him.”

“That's all I ask.”

Mickey turned around, rubbing the recently formed red mark from where the book hit his head. Mandy fired out the healing spell quickly, just as he was swinging the door open, shouting out a irritated _thank you_ through the door.

 

◇◇◇

 

Mandy’s powers had been wonky, even after she made amends with Ian and righted her wrong. She thought that would do it, restore some sort of karmic balance, but she was wrong. Her powers still worked but short circuited from time to time, making her feel like a broken radio.

She was walking down the street, heading to the old shop where she’d gotten her books to see if any new material had come in that supplied a cure for her new magical ailment. She saw Mickey swing the door open to the Kash and Grab and rolled her eyes. She ignored her brother’s juvenile games and continued her strides.

She experimented as she walked, flicking her wrists discretely, intent on knocking down garbage cans in the distance. Her energy vibrated pathetically and the can only flinched in response. Frustrated, she shook her hands and narrowed her eyes in an effort to focus, trying again. The can wiggled, but didn't fall. She groaned in aggravation then inspected her hand. She had no idea what she was looking for; her hands looked as ordinary as they always had but now they _felt_ ordinary.

She was pulled from her wallow when she heard a gun shot in the distance. She flinched in a panic, then realized the source. She turned quickly, nearly tripping when she did, her heart thumping against her ribcage forcefully. She steadied her feet then took off running towards the Kash and Grab; her intuition and energy noticeably absent. She paid no mind, though, swinging the door open and taking in the scene.

“Fuck,” Mickey hissed on the floor where Ian hovered over him.

Mandy darted her eyes around the room frantically. When she saw Kash was gone, she rushed over, preparing her palms. Her gut twisted with panic, making her hands shake.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Mandy!” Ian cried. “Do something, help him,” he begged.

It was surreal, three teenagers clamored together in a pool of blood waiting for magic to heal. Mandy grew nervous, her insides flaring with a heavy mix of helplessness and hope.

“Heal em, hex him. Whatever.”

“You told him?” Mickey grunted.

“Not the time,” she rushed out, screwing her eyes shut, beckoning her curse.

“Hurry up, this fuckin sucks!”

Mandy started to chant desperately, the Latin she knew in her sleep fell from her mouth by rote. Nothing. She chanted louder but she knew deep in her gut that her magic was failing her. It fluttered away, evaporating into thin air with just a small whisper to be heard from its once booming scream. She felt empty, completely void of anything. No strength, no power, no energy; vacant. Tears rolled down her cheek at the realization.

“I can't do it,” she cried.

“Fuck! The _one_ time I need your ass,” Mickey scorned.

“I'm sorry!” she shouted.

Shattered, she practically crumbled to the ground. Mickey was right, he had actually, truly needed her and she was useless. She shriveled up, shrinking smaller and smaller as the seconds ticked by until she felt like a crumb; nothing but a pitiful, replaceable, ordinary girl.

Kash resurfaced from the back with a phone pressed to his ear. “Ambulance is coming, so are the cops.”

“Thanks, asshole!” Mickey spat.

Mandy didn't leave the puddle of blood she sat in. Instead she cried, realizing she was now nothing but a mere mortal peasant in her fantasy world.

 

◇◇◇

**Author's Note:**

> Since there is such a limited selection of Mandy fic, and I’m hoping more people want them like I do, here are two of my favorites:
> 
> [i don’t belong living in your precious memories (cause i need you, and i miss you)](url)  
> [What We Might Have Been](url)
> 
> And a big, HUGE thank you to Holly for betaing and helping me along with this fic. She is more extraordinary than the most powerful Witch in all the land.


End file.
